Читать книгу The Cowboy's Christmas Bride - Patricia Johns - Страница 9

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Chapter One

Andy Granger sat across from Dakota Mason—the one woman in Hope, Montana, who had never fallen for his charms. Yet here they were, and Dakota looked less than impressed to see him. A pile of ledgers teetered next to a mug of lukewarm coffee and outside a chill wind whistled, whipping crispy leaves across his line of sight through the side window. It was getting late in the winter for there to have not been snow yet, but it looked like it wouldn’t hold off much longer.

Andy leaned his elbows on the table and pushed the coffee mug aside. “Didn’t expect to see me here, did you?” he asked, a half smile toying at his lips.

Dakota pulled her fingers through her thick, chestnut hair, tugging it away from her face, cheeks still reddened from the cold outside. She’d always been beautiful; the years only seemed to improve her.

“I was expecting Chet,” she said. “He said he needed some extra help on the cattle drive. I’d rather deal with him, if you don’t mind.”

Yeah, everyone was expecting Chet. Andy was here for a couple of weeks at the most. He’d agreed to do the cattle drive this year for his brother and then he was heading back to his life in the city. This ranch—this town even—wasn’t home anymore, and he’d been reminded of that little fact repeatedly since arriving.

“Afraid I can’t oblige,” he replied. “Chet and Mackenzie are in the city. There were some complications with her pregnancy. That can happen with twins, apparently. Anyway, I’m here to take care of things until they return.”

That was why Chet had held off on their cattle run to bring the herd from the far pastures in the foothills back to the safety of nearby fields for the winter months. The warm fall and late winter had felt providential with Mack’s problematic pregnancy, but the cattle had to come back soon, and now Andy would be the one to do it. As long as he was back out of town before Christmas, he’d call it a success.

“Mack’s okay, though?” Dakota asked, her expression softening a little.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, how’ve you been?”

“You haven’t heard?” Dakota tugged her leather jacket a little closer around herself. She looked uncomfortable, not that Andy blamed her. Everyone seemed ill-at-ease around him since his return, and he’d rolled with it, but he didn’t like seeing that discomfort in Dakota’s eyes. She’d always been one of the few to see straight through his act—which had generally taken the form of telling him he was an idiot—and this time he wished she could still see what no one else seemed to...that he wasn’t all bad.

“I’ve been out of the loop lately,” he confessed.

“That’s an understatement,” she retorted. “But thanks to you selling off that land to developers, our ranch is now bone dry.”

“What?” Andy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The streams that ran through your pasture watered ours,” she said. “The developers blocked the main ones to make some sort of reservoir. We’re down to a trickle.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Those words didn’t encompass half of what he felt. That sale had been a mistake, and while he’d been able to buy a car dealership in the city, which had turned into a rather lucrative investment, he’d never been able to shake the certainty he’d made a monumental error when he sold his half of the inheritance and the family pasture.

“But glad to know you made some money off it.” Her tone dripped sarcasm.

“It was my land to sell, Dakota.”

It wasn’t like he’d stolen something from his brother. What was he supposed to do—dutifully step back and forget about his inheritance altogether because his brother was using it?

“Yeah, but to Lordship Land Developers?” she snapped. He’d seen the sign beside the road, too—a bit of a jolt when he’d first driven back into town.

Dakota wasn’t so far away from his position. Sure, her parents were still alive, but every ranch faced the same problem. When the owner had more than one child, and the bulk of his financial worth was wrapped up in that land, how did you divide it in a will and still keep the business intact? Who got the ranch and who got cut out?

“What if your brother inherited your dad’s ranch?” he pressed. “Let’s say your dad leaves the whole thing to Brody. What if you were left with some scrub grass and some memories, and that was it? What if you were pushed out and had to find a way to deal? Are you telling me you wouldn’t have done the same thing? It’s not much of an inheritance when no one expects you to lay a finger on it.”

“Then you sell to your brother,” she said with a shake of her head. “But you didn’t. You turned this grudge between you and Chet into something that put a black mark on this whole community. Who says anybody is okay with having some resort built here? We’re a ranch community, not a vacation spot.”

“Take it up with the mayor.” He was tired of defending himself. Everyone had the same complaint—he’d sold to an outsider. That was the kind of misstep the town of Hope couldn’t forgive.

“Trust me, we tried,” she retorted. “Especially when our land dried up and we had to try and graze an entire herd on dust.”

Andy’s stomach sank. Was it that bad? It wasn’t like he could’ve anticipated that, but people around here didn’t seem to care about what was fair to blame on him and what wasn’t. Things had gone wrong, and he was the target for an entire community’s animosity.

“Look, I’m sorry. I had no way of knowing that would happen.”

She didn’t look terribly mollified, and he didn’t really expect her to be. The truth was he could have sold to his brother, but he’d erred on the side of money. The developers had offered more than he could turn down—enough to buy the dealership in the city free and clear.

And, yes, he’d harbored a few grudges against his perfect brother, Chet. This cattle drive was a favor to his brother, nothing more, and the last thing he needed was a distraction. He’d messed up and he didn’t need a four-day-long reminder of that in the form of Dakota Mason, but Chet had asked her to lend a hand before Mackenzie’s pregnancy troubles, and Andy was just filling Chet’s shoes until he got back. This was all very temporary.

“Changed your mind about helping out?” Andy asked. “My brother isn’t going to be back for a while, so you’d have to deal with me, whether you like it or not.”

“Thanks to you, we need the extra money,” she retorted. “So, no, I’m in.”

Working with a woman who couldn’t stand him was a bad idea. He knew that plain enough, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he owed her. Just like the rest of this blasted town. He had a debt hanging over his head that he’d never be able to repay. Andy glanced at his watch. Two drovers had quit on Chet, and they needed two replacements to get the job done. After Dakota, there was only one other applicant to the job posting he’d placed. He wasn’t exactly in a position to turn down help.

“Have you done a cattle drive before?”

She shot him a sidelong look. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

It wasn’t a completely inappropriate question. Andy hadn’t gone on more than two cattle drives in his life. His brother had always been the one who cared about ranching operations—and was the consummate favorite—so their father had taken him along most years. Andy needed drovers who knew what they were doing, because while he was the face of the family for this drive, he didn’t have the experience, and he knew it. Getting the job done was going to rely on the expertise of his team. Which brought up an important question.

“All the other drovers are men,” he said. “Can you handle that?”

“If I can handle cattle, I can handle men.” She narrowed her eyes. “Can you handle a woman on your team?”

Andy shot her a grin. He’d never been one to shy away from women. He’d managed to garner a bit of a reputation for himself over the years. In fact, he’d even dated his brother’s wife back when they were in high school—and when he’d been dumb enough to cheat on her with another girl. Not his proudest moment. But while Hope might remember him as the flirt no one could nail down, the last few years had changed him in ways he’d mostly kept to himself. Seeing Chet and Mack fall in love, get married and now start a family made him realize what he wanted—the real thing.

“I have no problem working with a woman,” he replied. “But if we’re going to be working together for the next four days, maybe we could drop the personal vendetta. Like a truce.”

She met his gaze without even a hint of a smile. “I can be professional.”

Professional. Yeah, he’d had his fill of professional at the dealership. And if he had to spend the better part of a week with a group of people, he’d rather not feel their icy disapproval the entire time.

“I was actually aiming for friendly,” he said and caught a flicker of humor in her direct gaze. “I’m not your favorite person, I get that. I hadn’t realized how bad it was—” He swallowed, weighing his words. “You aren’t the only one with a grudge around here. Do you know what it’s like to order breakfast at the truck stop and have everyone there, including your waitress, glare at you? I think my eggs tasted funny, to boot. Goodness knows what they did to them. So I get it. I’m the bad guy. I’m the jerk who sold you all out, but I do have a job to do, and this isn’t for me, it’s for Chet.”

Some of the tension in her shoulders loosened at the mention of his brother. That’s the way it always was around here. People liked Chet. They respected him. They sided with him, too.

Her direct, cool expression didn’t flicker. “I’ll meet you halfway at civil.”

“I’ll take what I can get. If you want this job, we have to be able to work together. You know what it’s like out there, and if we can’t count on each other, we’re wasting everyone’s time.”

“I’m not going to be your problem,” she said, and he knew what she was talking about—the rest of the team.

“Leave the other guys to me.” He wasn’t exactly confident in his ability to lead this team of drovers, but if he could bridge the gap with Dakota, it would be a step in the right direction.

“So, what are the plans?” she asked.

“It’s four days in total. I haven’t done this particular ride before. It’s to the far side of what used to be the Vaughn ranch. We’re driving back four hundred head, so it’s no small job.”

Dakota nodded. “When do we start?”

“Monday morning.”

“Okay, I’ll be here bright and early.” She rose to her feet and turned toward the door. Her jeans fit her nicely and he found himself having to pull his eyes away from admiring her shape.

“Dakota—”

“Yeah?” She turned back, brown eyes drilling into him, and he felt the urge to squirm.

This was the hard part—this was where he had to reveal that he needed help—and his stomach tightened. He didn’t like admitting weakness, but needed an outside opinion, and she was the most qualified person in the room.

“You sold Chet some horses last spring,” he said.

“What of it?” She raked a hand through her hair.

“I need to choose my horse for this drive, and I thought you might have some advice.” More than advice. Dakota was something of a horse whisperer, able to calm even the most spirited animal, and while he knew she didn’t much like him at the moment, he did trust her instincts. There was a horse he’d warmed up to over the last couple of days—Romeo. Chet thought Romeo wasn’t ready for a cattle drive, but there was just something about that horse that Andy couldn’t dismiss. Maybe he and Romeo were alike—not exactly ready but still perfectly capable. He wanted Dakota’s take on it. Maybe she’d see something Chet hadn’t.

When Dakota didn’t answer right away, he added, “I know I’m not in the best position to ask you any personal favors, but it’s been a long time since I worked a ranch, and Chet is counting on me to take care of things. Once I’m done this job, I’ll go away and never bother you again. That’s a promise.”

She sighed. “Do you have time now? I’d need to see the horses again to see where they’re at. They all needed work when they left my stables.”

Andy shot her a grin and rose. “You bet. I have an hour until my interview with another potential drover.”

“Who?” She frowned.

“Harley Webb. Heard of him?”

She shook her head. “No. He from around here?”

“Doesn’t seem to be,” he said. “I’ll find out later, if he shows.”

She gave him a curt nod and pulled open the door. There was something about this woman, her slim figure accentuated by morning sunlight, that made his mind stray into territory it didn’t belong in. Just before that hazy summer, when Andy had dated Mackenzie, Dakota had started dating Andy’s best friend, Dwight. She’d almost married him, so he’d seen quite a bit of Dakota back then. You’d think that would have made her more inclined to be friendly with him. But even back then she’d seen straight through his attempts to look tough and suave, and she hadn’t liked what she’d seen. Now the woman had every reason to resent him; he had to keep that thought front and center.

Meanwhile he had a job to do. He’d do this cattle drive and, when Chet got back, he’d stay true to his word and get out of Hope for good. He’d celebrate Christmas in Billings and put all of this behind him. He’d seen enough over the last few days to be convinced that Hope would never be home sweet home again.

* * *

THE FACT THAT someone at the truck stop had meddled with Andy’s morning eggs was mildly satisfying. He had it coming after what he’d done to this community, and he didn’t deserve to swagger back into town and be welcomed with open arms. He’d formerly been a town favorite—up until he’d sold them all out. He’d been so cocksure of himself, and the girls had swooned for that auburn-hair-and-green-eyes combination—the Grangers were a good-looking family. It didn’t help that Andy was a flirt, either, but Dakota had never been the kind of girl to be taken in by that kind of guy. She’d seen straight through him from the start.

Dakota respected substance over flattery, so after Andy broke about a dozen hearts around town after Mack’s, and then up and sold his land to the developer, her sympathy—and everyone else’s for that matter—was spent. Andy Granger was a flirt and an idiot. As for the scrambled eggs—whatever they’d done to them, he’d had it coming.

Andy walked half a step ahead of her across the ranch yard. A tractor hooked up to a trailer was parked along the western fence, a few bales of hay and some tools on the trailer bed. Several goats were in the field beyond it, and they bleated in greeting as they passed. A chicken coop sat at the far end of the yard by the big, red barn and a rooster perched on a fence post nearby fluffed his feathers against the chill. A few hens scratched in the dirt outside the coop, but it looked like most had gone inside for some cozy comfort.

Andy angled his steps around the coop and Dakota noted how broad and strong he was still. City life hadn’t softened him physically. It had been almost five years since she’d last clapped eyes on him, and she’d forgotten how attractive he was up close... Not that it mattered.

A breeze picked up, swirling some leaves across their path, and she hitched her shoulders against the probing wind.

Word had spread about Andy, even when he was away. He’d spent a decade in the city, where he’d gotten engaged and then got cold feet, from what she’d heard through the grapevine. Then he’d sold the Granger pasture and left town again. It would have taken some courage to show his face after all that, but here he was, and he was doing this for his brother, which was the only reason she was being helpful at all—well, that and the money.

Dakota had known Andy quite well back in the day. He’d even asked her out once, leaning against the hood of his pickup and casting her a boyish grin. Truthfully, she’d been tempted to say yes—what girl hadn’t? But she’d just started dating Dwight and she wasn’t the two-timing kind of person. And what kind of a guy moved in on his best friend’s girlfriend? She’d turned him down flat, which was just as well because a few weeks later Mackenzie Granger came to town and soon they were a smoldering item. That just went to show that the boyish grin wasn’t to be trusted.

Ironically enough, Andy turned out to be less of a threat to her peace of mind than Dwight had been. The minute Dwight turned twenty-one, he did two things: propose and start drinking. She accepted his proposal, but the wedding never happened. With the booze, Dwight got violent, and she couldn’t stay in a relationship like that. Still, canceling her wedding had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. And Andy had been Dwight’s best friend—it said something about the kind of man Andy was, in her estimation. Birds of a feather and all that.

“So your eggs tasted funny, did they?” she asked, casting him a wry smile.

Andy shook his head. “You know, in a place this small you get to know everybody, but you also get to tick everybody off in one fell swoop, too.”

“So why come back?” she countered. “I’ve heard that you’re set up pretty well in Billings, and while I get helping out your brother, Elliot could have led this drive easily enough.”

In fact, she’d heard that Andy was rich, if she had to be entirely honest. Apparently he was making money hand over fist in the city, which was one more reason for people around here to resent him. It was easier to feel sorry for a guy who ended up down on his luck after pulling a stunt like that, but to have him actually prosper...

“I am set up pretty well.” His tone became more guarded and he looked away for a moment. “Let’s just say that some sentimental nonsense got the better of me.”

“Is that code for a woman?” she asked dryly. With Andy it usually came down to a woman.

“No.” He barked out a laugh. “Is that what you think of me, that I’m some kind of womanizer?”

Dakota shrugged. She couldn’t see any reason to lie. He had to know his own reputation. “Yes.”

He eyed her for a moment as if not sure how to take her frankness, then he shrugged.

“Well, this particular sentimental nonsense has nothing to do with a woman. This is about my dad, rest his soul, and my brother. I guess I missed...them. This. Fitting in. Like I said, nonsense. There is no turning back that clock.”

She didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t exactly denied being a womanizer, but she did feel a little pang of pity at the mention of his father. Mr. Granger had died about four years earlier in a tractor accident. The whole town had showed up for the funeral. Even the truck stop closed down for a couple of hours so that everyone could attend; that’s how loved Andy’s father had been. She inwardly grimaced.

“I didn’t send the horses out to pasture today,” Andy went on, saving her from finding an appropriate reply.

He led the way around the side of the newly painted barn toward the corral. As they stepped into its shadow, the December day felt distinctly colder. This winter would make up for lost time; there was no doubt about it.

Andy glanced over his shoulder and his green eyes met hers. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

Her pulse sped up at the directness of that look and the very fact that he was working his blasted Granger charm on her was irritating.

“This isn’t for you, Granger. It’s for Chet.”

She wasn’t falling for any of Andy’s charms, but she could certainly understand why some women did. He was tall, muscular, with rugged good looks and scruff on his face that suggested he’d missed a couple of days of shaving. But Andy also represented something that hit her a little closer to home—the kind of guy who could walk away without too much trouble. Her brother had fallen for the female version of Andy Granger in the form of Nina Harpe, and she wasn’t about to repeat Brody’s mistakes. She had a lot of reasons to be wary of Andy Granger.

The corral was attached to the back of the barn, bathed in midmorning sunlight. At this time of year the sunlight was watery, but the air was surprisingly warm—about four or five degrees above freezing. Beyond the corral was a dirt road that lead toward different enclosed pastures, rolling hills of rich, golden cinnamon grass glowing in late autumn splendor. And beyond the fields were the mountains, rising in jagged peaks, hemming them in like majestic guards.

Several horses perked up at the sight of them, ears twitching in interest. Andy reached into a white bucket that sat in the shade and pulled out a fistful of carrots. He rolled them over in his hands, rubbing off the last of the dirt, and headed for the fence. Two of the horses came right over when Andy walked up—a dun stallion named Romeo and a piebald mare. Chet’s horse, a chestnut gelding named Barney, stood resolutely on the far side of the coral, ignoring them.

“Have you ridden any of them yet?” Dakota asked, stopping at Andy’s side. He held a carrot out to the mare.

“I’ve ridden Romeo, here,” he said, reaching out to pet the stallion’s nose. Romeo leaned closer, nosing for a carrot, and Andy obliged.

“How about Barney?” she asked, nodding toward the gelding that was inching closer around the side of the corral, wanting his own share of the treats.

“He bit me,” Andy retorted.

Dakota choked back a laugh. “Not sweet old Barney.”

“Sweet?” Andy shook his head. “That horse hates me. Every chance he gets, he gives me a nip. I just about lost the top of my ear last time.”

“Okay, well, not Barney, then,” she replied with a shake of her head. In fact, if Andy wasn’t going to ride Barney, she was inclined to take him herself. He was an experienced horse for this ride, a sweetheart deep down...if you weren’t Andy, apparently.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

She paused for a moment, considering.

“Romeo, here, is young and strong. He’s a runner. He’ll go and go, so he’ll definitely have the energy for a cattle drive. But he doesn’t have the experience.”

“I like him, though,” Andy said. Romeo crunched another carrot, his jaw grinding in slow, satisfied circles. “He wasn’t Chet’s first choice, either.”

“Which horse did Chet recommend?” she asked.

“Patty,” he said, nodding to the piebald mare. “But what do you think?”

Dakota looked over the horses. “I’d have said Barney, but if he really hates you that much—”

“And he does,” Andy replied in a low laugh.

“Patty is a good horse. She’d do well.” She paused, watching the way Romeo stretched toward Andy for another carrot. “But you seem to have a good bond with Romeo. I don’t know. I’d say it’s between Patty and Romeo. Patty would be my first choice. I think Romeo’s a risk.”

Andy nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He gave the last carrot to Patty and showed Romeo his empty hands. “Sorry, buddy. All out.”

Andy pushed himself off the fence and Dakota followed him as he headed back the way they’d come. Sunlight warmed her shoulders and the top of her head. She glanced around the yard as they walked, inhaling the comforting scent of hay and autumn chill.

“So?” she prodded.

“When have I ever been one to take good advice?” he asked with a grin. “I’m taking Romeo. If I’m going to ride for four days, I’d rather have it be with a horse that wants to move.”

Somehow this didn’t surprise her in the least, and not in a pleasant way. Andy Granger had always made his own rules. “Fair enough.”

“What?” He cast her a quizzical look.

“Did you really want my advice, or just a vote for what you already wanted to do?”

“Hey.” His tone grew deeper and his eyes met hers. “I might not be the rancher of the family, but I’m not exactly a lost kitten, either. I can ride.”

Dakota dropped her gaze, her cheeks warming. Andy had an effective stare.

“I grew up here, too, you know,” he added. His stride was long and she had to pick up her pace to keep up with him.

He may have grown up in Hope, but she knew he’d never taken ranching very seriously.

“You clowned around,” she retorted. “I remember that horse show where you arrived late and—”

“I had my fun,” he interrupted. “And why not? No one else took me seriously.”

“They might have,” she shot back, “if you’d shown that you cared about this land at all.”

“And if I were punctual.” He gave her a look of mock seriousness. “So very punctual.”

He was making fun of her now and she shook her head. Andy had been late for that horse show, and she’d told him off for it when he finally did arrive. It was that joking attitude of his that rubbed her the wrong way—it always had. Always joking, never saying anything of any substance. In her own humble opinion, Andy’s father had made the right call in who got the ranch.

“You were late, and I came in first at that show,” she said. She’d enjoyed beating him.

“I was late and I still came in third,” he quipped. “Imagine what I could’ve done if I’d arrived on time.”

“Yes,” she retorted. “Imagine.”

The thing was Andy hadn’t lacked in skill or talent, just focus. At least that was the way she saw it. And he hadn’t focused because he hadn’t cared about ranching life. But Dakota did—she cared more than a guy like Andy could ever imagine, and while he was horsing around and flirting with girls, she’d been working hard. It wasn’t just a junior horse show, it was a matter of pride.

“I was joking.” He came to a stop in front of the house and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t sober entirely, that smile still teasing at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll get used to it.”

From where they stood she could see the barn on one side and the drive leading toward the main road on the other. It wound through bushes of amber and nut brown, a few cattails growing in the ditch where water collected. The cluck of the chickens mingled with the faraway call of a lone V of geese that soared overhead. She could see the beauty here—the life, the rotation of the seasons, the work to be done and the harvest to be enjoyed. She could see things she was quite sure Andy didn’t. The land wasn’t a joke, it was a responsibility.

“I’m already used to it,” she retorted. “You’re acting like I don’t know you. If you want to know why people are so ticked with you, this is it. This is all a joke for you, just a way to pass the time. But for the rest of us, this is our life, something we care enough about to dedicate every waking hour. When you sold that land, you made a dent in this community and it’s affected us all—my family especially. You might be joking around, but the rest of us are dead serious, and we’re left paying for it.”

“And I doubt there’s any way you’ll forgive me, is there?” He’d sobered finally, the joking look evaporating from his face, leaving those chiseled Granger good looks to drill straight into her.

“Probably not.” Dakota sucked in a breath and nodded in the direction of the corral. “I still recommend Patty, for the record. Not that I expect it to matter to you.”

“Noted. And I should add that just because I joke around doesn’t mean I’m not dead serious about some things, this cattle drive included.”

“Good.” She swallowed, uncertain of what else to say. There was nothing left, really. She’d stated her position and he’d stated his. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything, really, except two people forced to work together for a few days. What he thought of this land didn’t much matter. It didn’t belong to him.

“So I’ll see you Monday morning,” he said. “I want to start riding at sunup.”

“I’ll see you then,” she said and turned toward her truck.

“Dakota—” She turned back and he shrugged. “Thanks for meeting me halfway.”

Halfway at civil. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to mean something to him. Melancholy swam in those green eyes and then he gave her a nod of farewell and turned back toward the house. For all of his joking around, he was carrying a heavier load than she’d given him credit for. While she’d always hoped he’d live to regret what he’d done to this town by selling out, she’d never considered what it would mean to see that regret reflected in his face. Karma was best reported secondhand, not witnessed...something she’d already learned with Dwight.

A few years ago, right around Christmastime, she remembered putting up the family tree in the living room with her brother. She’d been dating Dwight at the time, and no one knew about his violent outburst yet, but apparently, his boozing had put up some warning flags. Brody had given her some sound advice. “Don’t get caught up with a guy who will ruin your future,” he’d told her seriously. “You already know what you want. Dwight doesn’t—and even if he did, he’d have to stop drinking if he wanted to achieve anything. So you’d better put together the life you want. No guy is going to give it to you, least of all Dwight. You need to dump his sorry butt before it’s too late.”

That advice still applied—both about steering clear of Dwight and any other guy who didn’t share her priorities. The wrong man could demolish everything she’d worked for.

The Cowboy's Christmas Bride

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